The Record of the Heresy War
by Mortalysis
Summary: Currently surveying the characters a few years before the Heresy War. This story compiles the adventures of the Four Heroes: Dyne, Mel, Lemia, and Ghaleon. Be advised that the rating will rise in the future.
1. Prologue

**The Record of the Heresy War  
Prologue**

_The 5th Day of Summer, Year 905 (Vanic Reckoning)  
In the Magic Guild, Vane:_

Lemia Ausa stared idly out the window. The sun blazed merrily over the Magic City of Vane. A gentle breeze flowed into the old classroom, bringing with it the noises of children playing in the streets and the lingering smells of the summer festivals. She had enjoyed herself on the first day of the season, roaming the Magic City on her own, idly purchasing sweets and watching the commoners delight in cheap, flashy magic tricks. Free days for her did not come by often, and she would always venture outside the walls of the Magic Guild on those days; though she had no desire to belong to the class of commoners, she found their behavior – and their very presence in the city of Vane, whose magical reputation was known throughout the Silver Star – extraordinary.

"…and in the year 855, having visited the last of the four dragons, Dragonmaster Serian returned to Vane from the Meribian province of Caldor to assume the post of Premier," the buxom Patricia Lumach told her class, busily writing dates upon the slate with her back to her two students. "As the both of you know," she continued, "Dragonmaster Serian held the post until his son, Lord Baltosar au Minias, reached the traditional age of twenty years. Your father," Patricia said to her male student, briefly turning to him from the slate and flashing him a kind smile. He bowed slightly in acknowledgement, all the while taking notes. Lemia continued to stare out the window as though none of this were taking place, lost in her own thoughts.

"Dragonmaster Serian immediately gave Lord Baltosar his personal approval that he should assume the Premiership, which, of course, is necessary under the auspices of Immutable Law 6 in the Vanic Canon, which is … Lemia?" Patricia finally noticed the brunette paying no attention to her lesson and frowned. "Lemia? Lemia Ausa?"

"Hm?" the girl asked with a start. She turned to face her teacher guiltily. "The Canon? Laws, Mistress Lumach." She picked up her quill and absentmindedly scribbled a few letters onto her parchment.

"Immutable Law 6, Lemia," Patricia repeated stolidly, her mouth a thin line. "Recite it for us."

Lemia lifted her head to look her teacher in the eye, annoyed. This was the third time in an hour the woman had taken the liberty of putting her directly on the spot. As the Junior Premier of the Magic Guild of Vane, she would have none of this. Heat rose to her cheeks as she mustered all the authority she could into her fourteen-year-old voice: "Ask Ghaleon _mag Falin_, Mistress Lumach. I am sure he would fulfill your desires most readily." She emphasized his last name blackly; it pointed to Lyton blood – common blood – in the boy's mother.

Patricia Lumach raised a graying eyebrow and beheld the girl for a moment, almost surprised, in spite of herself, at Lemia's boundless arrogance. She turned to Ghaleon and asked, "Immutable Law 6, Ghaleon?"

Without looking up, Ghaleon recited, "The Law of Premier Legitimacy. The Heir to the Premiership of Vane will assume the position of Premier at the age of 20 years unless His father, the current Premier, publicly deems Him unready to assist Her Majesty in leading the People of Vane. In this case, the Heir to the Premiership will assume the position of Premier only when the current Premier gives His public approval or passes from this world. The Heir to the Premiership may not assume the position before the age of 20 years except in the case of incapacitation or death of the Premier His father." He brushed a few strands of long, silver-blond hair out of his eyes as he continued to write.

Patricia beamed. This student, at least, had the prerogative to be prideful if he so wished, but he was elegantly modest. Despite his heritage, he would make a most excellent Premier in five years; she only hoped, when the time came, that he would remember his doting teacher of Vanic History and Law. "Excellent, Ghaleon, as usual. You may go, for today. As for you, Mistress Ausa," the plump noblewoman announced, rounding on the Junior Premier, "You may stay here and write out the first ten of the Immutable Laws. I believe it would serve as a good review. Once you have finished, you may go." She turned to follow Ghaleon out of the room, but froze as something cold splashed against her back and neck.

Patricia Lumach wiped at her neck and regarded her blackened fingers in disbelief before turning, timorously, to face her female student. There stood Lemia Ausa enrobed in rage, her normally pretty face contorted in an expression of defiance, with her empty ink bottle quivering in her tight grip.

_In the Shrine to Althena, in the Meribian province of Katarina:_

The personal study of the High Priestess, unlike her office, was cramped and dark. Asari preferred it this way. She was a holy woman, but an academic in her own right. All she needed in her private room, therefore, was her miniature statue of the Goddess Althena and all of the oldest books the Shrine had to offer. She had been the High Priestess for about ten years, and in that short time had begun to command the respect of the most important leaders throughout the world, from the governor of Meribia, to the Majesty of Vane, to the chief of the traveling tribal settlement of Pao. All looked to her as a paragon of goodness and knowledge.

She did not eat or sleep unless her subordinates insisted; Asari was a busy woman, forever delving into the secrets of her religion. She was thin, perhaps even frail; her white robes hung very loosely from her bony shoulders, but what did that matter? There was too much that they did not know; the past three thousand years were murky, at best, in terms of the records kept by the residents of the Silver Star. Still, there existed some texts that she was forever poring over in her personal quest to become closer to Althena and uncover the mystery of the Blue Star. The emphasis placed by the Goddess on human happiness and revelry, Asari delegated to the lower priesthood. She had representatives from the Shrine in all the major cities; festivals were constantly held in Althena's honor. This earned her popularity among the common folk, and the time and peace required for any personal undertaking in the devout study of religion.

"High Priestess?" a light male voice at the door inquired timidly.

"Enter," she murmured, turning a page and trying to make sense of the odd runes in which the book was written. An adolescent in the robes of a novice stepped into the incommodious chamber and bowed as best as he could without knocking over any of the innumerable stacks of books. He waited, shuffling from one foot to the other and playing with his fair locks for a minute before clearing his throat, first quietly, then much more loudly, startling the High Priestess.

She started, and looked at him for a full ten seconds before realizing that she had left him waiting. Awkwardly she attempted a smile. "I apologize, Lexis. What is it that you require of me?"

"There is someone to see you, and she refuses to speak to any of us," the boy replied, smiling back at Asari. He knew how hard she worked – much harder than he ever did – and always found amusing her reactions to interruptions. "Only you, High Priestess."

Asari frowned. "Can you tell me anything else about our visitor?"

Lexis chewed his lip and thought carefully. "A girl, High Priestess. Very pretty. Around my age, maybe. No, younger. I really can't tell where she might be from. She's too sophisticated to be from Caldor or Meryod, but seems too … I don't know, innocent … to be from anywhere more important."

The High Priestess shrugged, unperturbed. "You may show her in," she said, standing. "I will meet her in the antechamber. Please ask one of the priestesses to prepare some tea for us."

The boy bowed again and scuttled away.

_On the Silver Sea, en route from Saith to Meribia:_

"You'll love it, Dyne," the half-beastman known as Mel de Alkirk promised him, clapping his companion on the back with his mighty right hand while taking a drag from a pipe with his left. The two of them made an interesting pair, lounging on the deck of Mel's ship. "The weather's great, the beer's delicious, and the women, mate…" Mel's eyes closed in blissful contemplation of all Meribia had to offer a youth entering his prime. The thirteen-year-old boy named Dyne rolled his green eyes at his older friend. "You know I'm too young for things like that, Mel."

"Nonsense!" he claimed. "A fella's never too young to enjoy the finer things in life. And you're no ordinary fella," he continued. Dyne grunted assent as modestly as he could. "We'll stay with my brother until we can find a place of our own, and then we'll see about proper training for those skinny arms of yours. A real blade, Master Caldors, think on it!"

The younger boy sniffed. He did not like the colonial surname that had been applied to all the residents of Caldor Isle by the conquering Meribians over a hundred years ago. Mel did not seem to notice. "The White Dragon certainly seemed to think you had some pluck. It's no easy feat, meeting him at your age. You'd make a prime addition to Meribia's armies."

"And what about you?" Dyne inquired. "I thought you had nothing to do with the army?"

"Too right, too right," Mel rumbled. "It's back to the same old for me, mate."

"Well, what if I want to stay with you?" the younger boy asked mulishly. "I don't have any friends in Meribia. Maybe I don't want anything to do with the army, either."

Mel shook his head. "We'll see," he replied, taking another drag on his pipe. Inwardly, however, he knew it would be best for his young friend to make a respectable name for himself; he would wish the path he had taken on very few people, if any.

_Back in the Magic Guild:_

"Lemia, I must express the most extreme displeasure at your woeful misconduct," her mother informed her from across the coffee table. Linira Ausa was a formidable woman, premature wisdom etched into the lines of her cheeks. The Majesty of Vane was a political and diplomatic mastermind, hailed from Lann to Lyton for her prodigious skill in dealing with everyone, from the lowest peasant under her rule to the most powerful of foreign dignitaries. Why, then, she always failed so magnificently in reaching out to her own daughter was something she would never understand.

"Mistress Lumach has been nothing but kind to you," she continued softly, sipping her tea. Lemia poked at a crumpet disinterestedly. "Why you should repay her efforts to impart to you all her vast knowledge with nothing but disdain and disrespect is, I must confess, entirely beyond my comprehension. You, my child, are an Ausa, the next in the Vanic dynasty spanning nearly a millennium of Majesties; and yet, this is not bespoken by your appalling behavior."

Lemia did not speak, but continued to play with her food. Her mother's nostrils flared as she carried on with her soliloquy: "You will, one day, rule in my place, as you are all too aware. Know, then, that the primary prerogative of a ruler is not to oppress her people, to expect them to be at her beck and call, but instead to serve them. One day, the entire House of Lumach will be subordinate to you, as will all four of Vane's noble houses. You must learn to become the ruler of your people _before_ that day." When Lemia still remained silent, Linira sighed gustily.

"The fault is my own," she admitted gingerly. "You have been raised with too much emphasis on your station. Darrin does not exhibit your tendencies," she remarked, naming Lemia's older brother. "He cannot rise to the position of Majesty, as you; once he comes of age, he will be the General of our armies forever, and one of your own Cabinet, should you wish. The Heir to the Premiership—"

"What about the Heir to the Premiership?" Lemia suddenly interrupted. "Yes, Mother, tell me," she continued mockingly; "What about dear Ghaleon _mag Falin_, the darling of that witch Patricia Lumach and the offspring of that dead Lyton slattern whose soiled name he bears? What about–"

"Silence." Lemia stopped talking immediately. Linira Ausa had stood from her seat. For a full minute the two women stared into one another's brown eyes. Finally it was Lemia who relented, and looked away. She barely heard her mother's words.

"From this moment, I forbid you to attend your regular classes with the Heir to the Premiership. You will take all your lessons with me after nightfall. You are forbidden to leave the walls of the Magic Guild." Lemia suddenly looked at her mother, horrified; Linira was impassive, her voice steely. "I will not inflict upon my people a daughter whose education I have most shamefully neglected. You may go to your bedchambers and write Patricia Lumach an apology. I shall know whether this has been done."

Lemia turned to go, stunned. As she opened the door of her mother's office to leave, Linira called out behind her in a dangerous voice, "Alalia mar Falin was a great prophetess whose talents were unique throughout the world. I forbid you to speak ill of those who have far surpassed your abilities, which are meager at best."

The Majesty of Vane watched coolly as her daughter's step faltered, then quickened; Lemia slammed the door and ran, as quickly as she could, away from her mother.


	2. Part I, Chapter I

**The Record of the Heresy War  
Part I, Chapter I**

_The 26th day of Winter, Year 906 (Vanic Reckoning)  
In the Magic Guild, Vane:_

Lemia sighed. Outside, snow was falling steadily from the evening sky. She gazed wistfully out her open window and used a dab of her magic to call the winds into the room. Her teeth chattered as the winter breeze filled Lemia's study, threatening to upset a few short stacks of parchment on the desk, but she was glad for it; this was as close as she had come to the outside world in two seasons.

She studied, for the time being, only practical magic; Linira had decided that it was useless to continue her daughter's training as a stateswoman, so long as she could not even direct the growth of a candle flame. Their first lesson together had ended with Lemia running from the room in tears, the full, ugly weight of her incompetence bearing down upon her mind.

From that point, she had devoted herself to studying magical theory from all the books she could find in Vane's vast libraries; history, law, and the like could come later, after she had mastered the elements. Though her devotion to her own work left her exhausted and without much free time, she could not deny that her magic had also improved dramatically under the supervision of her mother. The blood of the Ausa clan that flowed in the veins of the powerful sorceress who sat at the Magic Guild's head was the same blood that flowed in hers. Under Linira's exacting guidance, she had progressed to the level at which directing the winds, for example, could be done almost unconsciously, whereas it had cost her a good amount of sweat to direct them before. Linira had sniffed at her daughter's poor control over the elements when their lessons together began, but she acknowledged Lemia's talent when, after two seasons, the girl could not only direct the movement of the elements, but call them into existence as proficiently as any journeyman of the Guild.

The Majesty of Vane was aware of the amount of individual study undertaken by her daughter, and took every effort to diminish her overwhelming arrogance. "What you are doing now, you should have been able to do years ago," she had informed her dismissively at the close of their previous lesson. "I do not, however, begrudge credit where it is due. You shall begin your study of war magics at your next lesson." War magic ranged from somewhat complex to devastatingly so; that Linira wished to broach the subject showed her high regard for Lemia's abilities, no matter what she said.

Lemia had learned not to respond with anything more than, "Yes, Mother," or "Yes, Majesty" when Linira spoke, regardless of her inner thoughts. Each lesson concluded with a lecture on the importance of protecting the people of Vane. "Always the people, the people, the people," the girl grumbled out the window. "Does my mother think of nothing else?"

She considered that carefully. While Lemia spent her mornings and afternoons studying spell models and formulae, this was all for her own good. She did not think about the people, and she would admit this readily; for the moment, her own improvement was more important. Her mother, on the other hand, already the most accomplished mage in the Silver Star, rose before dawn to review the Guild's and the city's finances with the Premier, spent the morning in meetings with her Cabinet, held audiences open to the public in the Great Hall of the Magic Guild instead of taking midday, taught general classes at the Guild in the afternoons, alternately visited the city's merchants, nobles, and commoners in the early evening, and took a light meal before devoting hours, each night, to personally coaching Lemia. At midnight she would take her leave of her daughter in order to scry for disasters before finally taking rest for, at best, two or three hours before starting the day all over again. Linira Ausa did not live for herself, Lemia mused. Until Lemia could be compared to her own mother, though, living for others was out of the question. After a minute she turned away from the window and back to her book, satisfied.

_Fundamentals of Elemental Aegis Magics_ was an introductory text on defensive war magics. The models described in the tome made Lemia's head hurt; the most basic spell involved neutralizing the destructive power of heavy wind by countering it with the force of the earth before calling these elements, along with water, in huge quantities to surround a single person in a protective shell of ice. Then there was fire to invoke, at low intensity and with marked accuracy, so as to keep the target warm but not melt the barrier of ice. Finally a tremendous use of gravitational magic clarified the ice and drew it into his or her body, so the target could see through the shell and wear it as he or she would a suit of armor.

There was so much that could go wrong with a spell like this, she remarked inwardly, her heart thudding at the possibilities. What if the earth failed to calm the wind? Fierce blades of ice would surround the target. Too much fire would annul the spell's effects; fire directed poorly could immolate the target's body instead of warming it; too much gravity, and the target would be crushed, and none of this could take place without a monumental use of power—

Three crisp knocks on her door broke her concentration. She looked up from her work, half-glad and half-annoyed for the distraction. "Enter," she called out.

The door opened to admit a tall boy with shoulder-length, silver-blond hair. His robes, made of a floaty, shining, light-blue material, bespoke his station; his red eyes were bored but expressive and his ears pointed elegantly upward and out. It was Ghaleon mag Falin, holding a rolled-up piece of parchment with a blotch of red wax she recognized as the Majestic Seal. A message from her mother, no doubt. She made a face at the intruder. "Yes?"

"Her Majesty would have me understand that this is the hour you normally take your lessons together," he murmured with a slight bow. Why does he speak so blasted quietly? Lemia thought, irritated. "It is," she informed him tersely, glancing out the window and noting the darkness. "Where would Her Majesty be?"

He bowed again. "Her Majesty wishes that I take her place as your teacher for a time."

At that, Lemia could not suppress first a giggle, then uproarious laughter. Ghaleon looked on dully as he waited for her to calm down. Catching her breath, Lemia finally sputtered, "But you're just a student, like me, aren't you? How can a mere student teach the Junior Premier of the Magic Guild? This is a joke, right?" She smiled at him.

"I have concluded my studies at the Guild," he replied evenly. She laughed some more. "Don't be silly, you've only just turned, what, sixteen. You expect me to believe you've graduated two years early?"

"Yes," he answered unabashedly. "Her Majesty desires that I be the one to teach you the basic war magics," he replied evenly, holding out the parchment. Glaring, Lemia snatched it from him, ripped open the seal, and skimmed the note. He was indeed to be her teacher, and with her own mother's blessing. She crumpled the parchment and tossed it behind her back, regarding the boy who still stood impassively. "Shall we begin?" he asked her.

"No, we shall not," she retorted imperiously. "I want to know how this happened."

"How what happened?" he asked.

"We took all the same classes together all of two seasons ago!" she cried.

"You took all your classes with me," he replied. "At the time I was also taking the Guild's most advanced classes in magical theory, elemental magics, seeing magics, and aesthetic magics. A season ago I was tested by Her Majesty and His Excellency the Premier and given my credential. I had just returned from studying healing magics at the Shrine to Althena, actually, when I received Her Majesty's offer of work. If you please?" he said, taking advantage of Lemia's momentary shock to begin their lesson. "We will begin by gauging your abilities. Please cover the floor of this room with a thin sheet of ice."

He tested her for an hour while her mind attended to the double task of controlling the elements and racing through the implications of what Ghaleon had said. She had had little time to herself when she had taken general classes with the boy, and yet he had somehow found time to study with the Guild's very best, and do so well that they had conferred the title of journeyman – no – _scholar_, now, upon him two years before he turned eighteen, breaking their own traditions. Her own mother had beaten her classmates by a year, graduating from the Magic Guild at eighteen; some did not achieve journeyman status until their twenties or thirties. Someone had seen great talent in the sixteen-year-old boy who was now calmly explaining to her the basics of the same defensive magics she had been reading about before he came in. As much as she hated to admit it, his description of what she must do was much easier than the book had made it seem. She suddenly had an idea.

"What are the more advanced manifestations of this spell?" she asked, genuinely interested. "Can you show me?"

He closed his eyes. An invisible coolness started at her toes and made its way up her body, followed by a warmth that took her over in the same way. Her skin now gleamed with a pale yellow light; when she tried to touch one hand with the other, it tickled.

"Ice, right?" she asked. He nodded. "What else?" she asked.

"Try to figure it out," he answered. "Enter the spell with your mind."

She stared at him. He frowned. "Come, girl. Close your eyes and concentrate. You should feel the elements about you, and within."

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, failing to notice he had begun to address her as a master would his apprentice, as a teacher would his student. "The tickling … it's … it smells of … water?" She opened one eye uncertainly. Her teacher smiled lightly. "Not bad. You're close – try harder."

Lemia closed her eyes again and felt one hand with the other. At once her mind was flooded with the memory of a day she had spent in the rain at the age of six. She had gleefully spun in circles until the rain turned into a storm and her attendants made her come back inside.

"Thunder," she stated. "Thunder and lightning."

"Very good," Ghaleon said with approval. "Try the next layer."

The next layer was the warmth she had felt. That was easy. "Fire."

"And the third?"

Coolness. It felt like water, but at the same time, she knew it could not be. She probed at it carefully within her existence, trying to discern the nature of what she had felt. In her mind's eye she saw herself as though wrapped in cool silk threads, fluttering loosely. "It's air," she decided. "The third element is air."

"Correct," he affirmed. "And what else is there?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him quizzically. "Didn't I just pick apart everything you did?"

He nodded once. "Almost. There is yet more."

Grumbling inwardly, she tried to remember. The coolness, and after that had been the warmth, and all of a sudden she had glowed. Gravity? Gravity always behaved a bit strangely, but she sensed that gravity had no place in this working. Each layer of protection was strong in its own right. They worked together, but their cooperation was not gravity's doing; she knew from her reading that gravity could throw the elements together, but that they would cooperate so willingly with one another despite their natural oppositions indicated a higher, benign power.

"It is nothing I have studied," she said at last. "This cannot be an element."

"Quite right," he informed her. "I am impressed. It is the power of Althena herself that I have employed to fashion the best protection possible." He smiled. "Please think of this as a gift, Mistress Lemia. A sign that we will do good work together in the future. The visual effects will fade in time, but only powerful magic will ever be able to reverse the abjuration. The protection," he added when she looked at him questioningly. "And now, I bid you good night. We will resume our studies tomorrow at the appointed time."

She actually found him somewhat charming. "Good night, Ghal— Master. Master Ghaleon." But he was already shaking his head. "It is just Ghaleon, if you please, Mistress Lemia."

"Then I am Lemia to you," she responded, holding out her hand. He took it, bowed, and left her.

For a time she stood in the center of her study; the gleam of her skin did fade, and yet she still felt the elements within her. She smiled uncertainly. The mag Falin boy, her teacher … it was, perhaps, not so terrible of a development.


	3. Part I, Chapter II

**The Record of the Heresy War  
Part I, Chapter II**

_Mid-Autumn Day, Year 905 (Vanic Reckoning)  
In the Shrine to Althena, in the Meribian province of Katarina:_

It was impossible for him to concentrate; healing this, goddess that, it would all have been very well and good had it not been for the interminable sounds of singing and dancing coming through his window in the student dormitories. Conceding defeat, Ghaleon closed his homework and strode briskly out of the dormitory and into the main hall of the Shrine. It was deserted except for a novice priest reading in front of the sacred fire; it was his task to make sure that it did not go out.

"Good morning, Lexis," Ghaleon said, approaching. Lexis looked up. "Hi, Ghaleon. What, no mid-autumn festivities for you?"

"Festivities bore me," he responded dryly. "And it can hardly be said that I have the time. You know that I would like the credential from the Shrine by the end of this season."

The older boy shook his head. "Normally, I'd say you're crazy. No one gets a credential from the Shrine in one season. You're different, though. You've already gone farther than I have in the holy arts, and I've been here since I was ten years old." He smiled wryly. "I guess it makes sense, though. Heir to the Premiership of Vane, descendant of Dragonmasters and prophetesses … I couldn't begin to compare. Caldor dirt, that's what they call us, and that's all I am."

"But you are a most accomplished cleric," Ghaleon countered, deflecting the praise with a wave of his hand. "Few can attest to having studied under Lady Asari herself. You are to be congratulated, my friend, not scorned."

Lexis smiled, more happily this time. He had come to value Ghaleon's opinion, and had taken quite a liking to the young prodigy in the half-season he'd been at the Shrine. He simply disliked his own heritage; but Ghaleon mag Falin had nothing to do with the Meribians and their imperialism. "You remind me very much of the High Priestess, actually," he informed him at last. "Dedicated to your work, rejoicing in power the common man can only dream of, but … kind. Sensitive to the needs and feelings of others. It will be a happy day for Vane when you ascend to the Premiership, Ghaleon."

"You must visit the Magic City when you have achieved your novitiate," Ghaleon told him. "It would please me very much, and what's more, it is of utmost importance for you to see the city charged with the protection of the Goddess Tower at least once. What?" he asked when the priest chuckled. "It's just you," he received in response. "Have you managed to meet anyone besides me or your teachers while you've been here?"

"You are, effectively, also one of my teachers, as Lady Asari's personal assistant," Ghaleon drawled. "This is hardly a social visit I am on."

"And yet you seem to be able to find time to socialize with me," Lexis winked. Ghaleon suddenly felt a twinge of warmth in his cheeks. "Go to the festival, Ghaleon," the other boy counseled, picking up his book again. "One day off can't hurt. I'd join you, but I have to make sure Althena's fire doesn't run away or anything."

The young mage smiled and waved briefly in farewell before exiting the hall to the antechamber and going outside through the great main doors.

The scene that greeted Ghaleon was a colorful one. To his left, a group of novices watched, awed, as a dark-skinned man slid down his throat a sword the length of his arm. Jugglers wowed another small crowd to his right, sending blazing daggers and the like into the air and deftly catching them by the hilt. This opened onto several musicians playing a lively beat for a throng dancing around a gigantic statue of Althena, paying homage to their goddess with their revelry. Behind them were vendors of sweet wines, toasted corn, and strips of deep-fried pork.

He thought carefully for a second, taking in all the mid-autumn festival had to offer. Then he surreptitiously spread the thumb and index finger of his left hand; a small strip of pure energy appeared to dance between his fingertips. He took that strip into his hands and used it to tie his hair back into a silver ponytail.

"How pretty," a voice noted behind him. "I have not seen one who can fashion raw power so beautifully as yourself."

Ghaleon turned and bowed deeply to the high priestess of the Shrine before offering her his arm. "I had not expected the pleasure of seeing my lady Asari today," he murmured, eyes downcast.

"Nor did I expect the pleasure of seeing the prodigy Ghaleon mag Falin, son of Lord Baltosar au Minias, at the Shrine's mid-autumn festival," she replied, accepting his arm; he kissed her hand. "We are only human, children of Althena," she continued airily. "We both need a rest now and again. Only how fortunate it is that the Goddess has set aside these seasonal days for our relaxation."

They approached the jugglers. A shirtless male bowed, tossed an orange and a dagger into the air, and caught six slices of the fruit in one hand and the knife in the other. He offered the sliced orange to Asari with a crooked grin.

"All magic, of course," she said to Ghaleon out of the corner of her mouth, biting into the succulent fruit. "Perhaps useless, in your eyes. It is but a small branch in the aesthetic magics." She sighed. "A pity, Master mag Falin, is it not?" She glanced at him; he looked confused. She explained, "The Goddess delights in the pleasure of her children. That is why the Shrine has placed no sanctions on singing and dancing, or the methods of coupling between two people, or alcohol, as did some of the ancient barbarian religions of the Blue Star."

"Of course," he replied politely. He did not question the source of her obscure knowledge; everyone knew Asari was the leading scholar of the history, religions, and cultures of the Blue Star. She continued, "People like the juggler who gave me this orange often live in the filth of the streets. Not in Vane, of course – your superiors are renowned throughout the Silver Star for the attention and guidance they bestow upon their people – but in more crowded places such as Meribia, sometimes it is all these men and women can do to provide for the day's food before settling down for the night in the muck of the cobblestones." Wistfully she held out the last piece of orange for him, which he accepted. "They bring joy to the Goddess and her children, and yet, in the capital of the province of Marius, for example, entertainers must become thieves in order to live." She meant Reza, a city to the south where the Thieves' Guild held governmental power as the Magic Guild did in Vane. "It pains me to see such squalor. I would give all I have – this priesthood, the Shrine, my work, my life – to bring peace to Althena's children."

"My lady Asari is very well-traveled to have seen such things with her own two eyes," the boy remarked awkwardly. She shook her grand head sadly. "Perhaps, but of what use is it all, if I cannot bring a dram of hope to the lowest of the low? I have only seen the problem, Master mag Falin; I study and labor in the hope of finding a solution, but truthfully, it is as though I wander in the darkness. Ten years have I studied the ways of the Blue Star, and I must confess that I have but a little to offer this world. Still, I cannot help but wonder if perhaps they understood something we do not."

He made no reply – what she said was cryptic, and in any case the idea of such a great woman not knowing what to do unsettled him. She let the subject drop. "My Lexis tells me you keep mostly to yourself," she remarked. He nodded assent. "That cannot do," the high priestess chided. "You must come and meet some of our other charges. Ah, there," Asari said, indicating a slender figure resting her elbows on one of the wine stands.

The pair walked around the dancers, who had now joined hands to form a whirling human spiral with the statue at its center. The girl at the wine stand curtsied as they approached. Her eyes were calm and blue, and black hair cascaded down to the small of her back. She had pale skin, but its pallor was offset slightly by her undyed linen robes. She was of middling height, able to see just over Asari's head and coming up to Ghaleon's shoulder when she stood and smiled.

"Fiora Aerien," Asari greeted her. "Ghaleon mag Falin of the Magic City. Mistress Aerien came to us just a season before you, Master mag Falin," she added as the two bowed to one another. Fiora gallantly offered him her hand to kiss.

Ghaleon was about to say, "The pleasure is mine," when he took her hand. Immediately a cataclysmic surge of raw power ripped through his body. He jerked and violently released her hand as though it had burst into flames, but it was to no avail. The blood rioted in his veins; he felt as though fire coursed through his limbs and gathered in a smoldering ball at his heart. And as suddenly as it had started, the power's effect subsided. Fiora had clapped two white hands over her mouth in surprise. Ghaleon's hair framed his sweaty face; the magic he used to tie it back had come undone.

"Are you all right?" Asari asked calmly. "I felt it as well, but not nearly so strongly." He had collapsed; she helped him to his feet. "Was it perhaps a collision of your powers?"

He gulped and tried to catch his breath. "For it to have been a collision of powers," he managed to get out, "She would have to have been affected as well." But Fiora had obviously felt nothing; the girl stood before them, visibly frightened, but untouched by the passage of magic from her body to Ghaleon's.

Asari's eyes narrowed. This was not the first time power had manifested itself oddly with the girl. She could feel it, of course; at prayers, the very air around Fiora changed in a way she could not articulate. It was as though power moved, but nothing happened. It made those around her uneasy, but no one knew why. Certainly the girl was pious; she had come from who knew where two seasons before, wishing to devote herself wholly to the Goddess. A bit lacking in common sense, as she had resolutely refused to address anyone other than Asari herself on the simple matter of beginning her studies at the Shrine. But there was definitely something more to the girl who was now beginning to calm down a little, though she shied away from Ghaleon, as though afraid she would kill him with her touch.

She summoned them both to her study that night. The three sat on the floor in silence, drinking tea made from rose hips, while Lexis bustled in the back of the room, organizing papers. Finally Asari set down her cup and pronounced, "There is a strangeness to your power, Mistress Aerien. Strangeness that I cannot begin to ponder."

"I do not understand," the girl said, her blue eyes shining. Ghaleon interceded. "It is unlike anything I have studied. I hold every credential the Magic Guild offers besides those of Scholar and Sage, and yet what I felt was completely foreign to me."

The high priestess explained to Ghaleon her prior experience with Fiora while the girl stared into her cup. "There is something there," she concluded, "that is not of this world. Of course, that is only my hypothesis; it is possible that your superiors in Vane may be able to refute it, or at the very least, give us more information."

"Beg pardon, High Priestess," Lexis cleared his throat. All three looked at him; he sheepishly continued, "Ghal— Master mag Falin seems to be about as good as they come. If he hasn't even heard of it, what're the chances that someone else has?"

"I wish Linira Ausa and Baltosar au Minias to examine her," Asari sniffed. "It does not have to be immediately; in fact, I would like you to stay here until you have at least completed your novitiate," she told Fiora, who nodded. "I would like that as well," she said.

"If I may, Lady Asari," Ghaleon noted, "I do not believe Fiora should stay at the Shrine for more than a year from now. Power of an unknown nature could be a serious matter. If it goes unchecked for too long, it may mean danger for those who are around her." Asari nodded. "Spoken sensibly, Master mag Falin. It is for your insight that I have requested your presence here tonight." She sighed. "I will work personally with you, Mistress Aerien, so you may achieve your novitiate as quickly as possible."

"This is an honor, High Priestess," the girl replied, elated. Lexis accidentally dropped the tome he was holding with a crash.

"I hope it can be completed within the year," Asari murmured, ignoring the noise and glancing at Ghaleon. He inclined his head gravely and spoke, "I will be available to assist you and Mistress Aerien as needed, Lady Asari, until I receive my credential."

"That is more than I could ask of you, and you have my thanks," she replied. "Tomorrow, then; tomorrow evening. We four will meet here, and work."


	4. Appendix A

**The Record of the Heresy War**

**Appendix A. Characters**

This aims to be a comprehensive listing of all the characters in the story. It encompasses the characters who have already appeared or been mentioned thus far. All data is accurate as of Part I, Chapter II.

A note on names: in Vane, children take the surname of the mother, not the father.

**Fiora Aerien** (b. 893), student at the Shrine to Althena.

**Mel de Alkirk** (b. 887), Silver Sea pirate of Meribian origin.

**Lady Asari** (b. 871), born Asari de Faifal, Head Priestess of the Shrine to Althena.

**Darrin Ausa** (b. 890), son of Linira Ausa and future General of Vane.

**Lemia Ausa** (b. 891), daughter of Linira Ausa and Junior Premier of the Magic Guild.

**Linira Ausa** (b. 859), Majesty of Vane and Head of the Magic Guild.

**Dyne Bogard Caldors** (b. 892), precocious youth from Saith who has seen the White Dragon.

**Lexis Geldar Caldors** (b. 888), novice priest at the Shrine to Althena and personal assistant to Lady Asari.

**Alalia mar Falin** (876-890), mother of Ghaleon mag Falin, famed Lytonic prophetess.

**Ghaleon mag Falin** (b. 890), son of Baltosar au Minias and Heir to the Premiership of Vane. Holds journeyman credentials from the Magic Guild and the Shrine to Althena. Scholar of Advanced Magic at the Magic Guild.

**Patricia Lumach** (b. 881), Scholar of Vanic Law and History at the Magic Guild.

**Lord Baltosar au Minias** (b. 865), Premier of Vane and Sage of the Magic Guild.

**Dragonmaster Serian** (b. 835), born Serian au Landor, retired Vanic Dragonmaster.


	5. Appendix B

**The Record of the Heresy War**

**Appendix B. Concepts**

Here I have included some terms I have used and their definitions, but only if they were not in the original game or if their meanings (e.g. for Meribia) have changed drastically therefrom. As with Appendix A, it lists concepts that have already appeared in the story thus far. All data is accurate as of Part I, Chapter II.

**_au._** Archaic surname prefix with origins in an ancient language probably from the Blue Star, traditionally used by the four noble families of Vane, now only used by the families of the Majesty and the Premier. Built into the surname _Ausa_ by default.

**Caldor.** An island to the northeast of the main continent, annexed by the Meribian Empire as a province in 785 VR. The name _Caldors_ has been applied to all its residents as a second surname.

**_de._** Surname prefix traditionally used by the Meribian nobility. Currently added to many common Meribian names for effect and therefore losing its social value.

**Goddess Tower.** The ancient structure around which the Shrine to Althena is built.

**Katarina.** The home province of the Meribian Empire, containing the city of Meribia, the outpost of Nanza, and the fishing town of Lann.

**Magic Guild.** The school of magic located in Vane, the political body that governs the city, and the training base for the magic armies of Vane. See also _Vane_.

**_mag/mar._** Surname prefixes used by natives of Lyton, whose society does not distinguish between nobles and commoners; masculine and feminine, respectively.

**Marius.** A province of the Meribian Empire lying to the south of Katarina. Surrendered as a whole to Meribia after the fall of Reza in 792 VR. An old alliance of the same name between the cities of Reza and Iluk.

**Meribia.** A sprawling port city on the main continent, and the hub of an empire by the same name spanning Caldor Isle and what later come to be known as the Katarina and Marius Zones. The main military power on the Silver Star, rivaled only by Vane's magic armies and the Stadius Alliance. Ruled by a governor, who holds power over the mayors of other cities in the empire.

**Noble families of Vane.** Four families whose members may trace their lineage back to Vane's founding, outside whose bounds the positions of Majesty and Premier have never fallen, though this is not explicitly prohibited by law: the Ausa, the (au) Landor, the (au) Lumach, and the (au) Minias. See also _au_.

**Stadius Alliance.** A standing, but recently strained military alliance between the traveling settlement of Pao and the cities of Meryod, Lyton, and Tamur, forged in 791 VR to withstand the threat of the Meribian Empire.

**Shrine to Althena.** The base of operations of the religion of the Silver Star. It is geographically located in the Meribian province of Katarina, but is under its own jurisdiction and functions as a completely separate political entity.

**Vane.** The Magic City that orbits the Goddess Tower, whose Transmission Spring is located a day's walk from the Shrine to Althena and seven days' walk from Meribia under ideal conditions. Ruled by the Majesty of Vane, who is also the Head of the Magic Guild; the Majesty is aided by the Premier of Vane, who is also the Sage of the Magic Guild.

**Vanic Canon.** The Laws of Vane, established with its founding and subject to modification only by the Cabinets of the Majesty or the Premier.

**Vanic Reckoning (VR).** A time system with ancient roots inherited from the Blue Star, rescaled so that Year 1 corresponds with the rise of Vane into the sky.


End file.
